


Andromeda

by Charlie Snow (Algedonic)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2587808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Algedonic/pseuds/Charlie%20Snow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Sam watches Andromeda, looks two and a half million years into the past and thinks that him and hydrogen, they're not so different.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Preseries stargazing with space metaphors. That's all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Andromeda

It's like gravity, Sam thinks, the way he loves Dean. Inevitable, unavoidable, a force of its own steering him along until nature rights itself and falls into place. There's not much use in fighting it, he's pretty sure. Doesn't think he ever really stood a chance.

It's almost suffocating sometimes, the way Dean makes his heart swell so big in his chest that it crushes his lungs and makes it impossible to _breathe_ , the force of the way he feels about his brother making his legs shake and his head spin.

The metal of the Impala's hood is cool underneath him, damp hair clinging chilly to his neck, but when he'd gotten out of the shower to find Dean asleep on the couch with his work boots still on, face all open and soft and peaceful, Sam had been hit with a sudden fierce affection so strong it made his breath catch.

  
He'd removed Dean's boots, covered him with a blanket, and slipped outside rather than stay, rather than sit and watch and brush his fingers over his brothers lips like he wanted to.

The air is crisp but the stars are out, brilliant and endless this far from town. The forested foothills roll huge and black as far as Sam can see and it's so _quiet_  here, nothing but the breeze in the trees and the occasional lonely owl to break the silence.

Sam follows the constellations - _Perseus, Cassiopeia, Andromeda_  - and thinks about last Wednesday afternoon, astronomy class, Mr. Colburn's voice alight with all the awe of a man who'd spent his life with his head in the stars. _It's all connected_ , he'd said, _everything pulling on everything else, gravity from billions of stars and black holes building and destroying galaxies all over the universe. It's all made of the same stuff, hydrogen and carbon and helium and oxygen, the trees outside and the stars in the sky and you and everyone and everything you've ever known. If the Milky Way were to cease to exist, just blink out of time and space leaving nothing but one tiny little hydrogen atom, do you know what it would do? Do you know what would happen? That tiny little hydrogen atom would head off toward Andromeda, drawn from two and a half million light years away by the gravity of two hundred billion stars._

Sam watches Andromeda, looks two and a half million years into the past and thinks that him and hydrogen, they're not so different. He spends his life drifting toward the stars Dean keeps under his skin, close enough to see, too far to touch, drawn there like gravity too strong to pull against.

"Sam?"

Dean's changed into sweatpants, has the blanket Sam covered him with wrapped tight around his shoulders.

"Hey, Dean."

"Hey," Dean pushes himself up onto the hood, lays back against the windshield so close their thighs and shoulders touch. "Sorry. Fell asleep."

"S'okay. You looked tired."

Dean nods. "What're you doin' out here?"

Sam finds Andromeda again. It's not moving, doesn't look like it's moving, but it is. Gravity is doing its work even now, Andromeda and the Milky Way caught up in a celestial dance, tugging on each other from across the void.

Someday they'll crash, Sam knows. There will be no more Milky Way, no more Andromeda, just hundreds of billions of stars swirling together, dancing their own dances in the chaos.

"Thinking," Sam says, quiet like the night around them.

"Oh," Dean breaths. Sam wonders if Dean feels it like he does. "About what?"

"Andromeda," Sam says, pointing, even though Dean knows where it is, how to find it. Even though Dean was the one that showed him in the first place.

"What about it?"

"When Andromeda and the Milky Way finally touch, they'll destroy each other."

Dean lets his head rest back against the windshield, bumps his knee against Sam's. "Depends on how you look at it, Sammy." He points, and Sam follows his finger. "See Perseus?"

"Yeah."

"Look. The double cluster. I know you see it. Two star clusters, both bright, both _amazing_ , but they're better together. Now look at Andromeda. Incredible, right? That's an entire _galaxy_  you're looking at, with nothing but your eyes. Just imagine how bright she'll be once she meets the Milky Way. They'll destroy each other, sure. But they'll make something better out of the pieces. Five hundred billion stars shine a whole lot brighter than two." He drops his hand, knocks his knuckles against Sam's wrist. "Perspective."

Sam's throat feels tight, and he swallows. "I never thought about it like that."

Dean traces idle patterns with his fingertips on the thin skin of Sam's wrist, like he doesn't even notice he's doing it. "Good thing you've got me then, aye Sammy?" Dean's fingers stop tracing, slip down over Sam's palm to lace with his own.

"Yeah," Sam croaks, heat of Dean's hand bleeding up his arm and chasing the chill from his bones.

Dean looks over at him, leans in and rests his forehead against Sam's temple, places a kiss there like it's the easiest thing in the world, like he does it all the time. "You think too much."

One day Andromeda and the Milky Way will crash together, and their five billion stars will dance their dances, a bright spot in someone else's night sky.

"Shame we won't get to see it." Sam breathes, squeezing Dean's hand a little while Dean rubs little circles with his thumb.

Dean tugs him close. "Perspective, Sammy," he says into Sam's hair. "We'll have the best seat in the house."


End file.
